


second chances

by markhyuckfest, timelessidyll



Category: NCT (Band), SM Rookies
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Break Up, Fake Crush, Fluff, M/M, but it's temporary!!, hyuck regrets his friends, they deal with it kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 17:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17349830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markhyuckfest/pseuds/markhyuckfest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelessidyll/pseuds/timelessidyll
Summary: The thing that Donghyuck knows, being Chenle’s friend, is that he’s not a quiet person. He always has to tell someone the information he knows. So when the whole school finds out about his crush on Mark, he knows exactly how.Except it’s the furthest thing from the truth, and now Donghyuck is stuck in an uncertain limbo of how to deal with the situation that follows.





	second chances

**Author's Note:**

> hahahaha so funny story my writing style fluctuates wildly in this fic pls forgive me
> 
> [my twitter!](https://twitter.com/timelessidyll)   
>  [my curiouscat!](https://curiouscat.me/timelessidyll)

Between the four of them, it starts with Jeno. Donghyuck isn't surprised, because Jeno's a romantic at heart and undoubtedly the sweetheart of the school, and when Jaemin finally asks him out, no one's surprised. They fit well with each other, a mixture of sweetness and sass that balance each other out, although the sweetness tends to be a little over the top in Donghyuck’s humble opinion; which Jisung argues is extremely overbearing, but Donghyuck’s never really placed that much importance in Jisung’s opinion of his manners.

Jeno and Jaemin, Jaemin and Jeno. That’s what it becomes after that, and even though Donghyuck is the slightest bit (read: very) weirded out by the change, he gets used to it. After a few days, it seems natural to see them together, whether they’re holding hands, hanging off of each other, or even standing an arms-length apart. Jaemin slowly integrates into their group, and he brings Renjun, the stand-offish transfer student who was known for never having clothes covered in paint splatters, with him. Donghyuck settles back into his routine like leaves settling after a strong gust of wind, and everything is normal again.

He sees the signs long before anyone else does. While Chenle is a gossip mill in and of his own, he’s incredibly oblivious. So Renjun’s fond glances and soft sighs are seen and heard by Donghyuck so easily he almost doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry at how dense Chenle really is. It takes Jeno longer, but even he figures it out before Chenle does. It might be because Chenle doesn’t want to get his hopes too high; too many failed dates and relationships has made him wary about what people want to date him for. He’s either too trusting or too forgiving, and although that part of his nature hasn’t truly changed, he’s less willing to give his heart away. Donghyuck surprises himself when he tells Renjun he should give it a shot after watching him skirt around the topic for a month, but it makes sense. Huang Renjun is a suffering artist with a love for the stars that may extend a little further into the extraterrestrial than Donghyuck was aware of, and he owned a bunny to top it all off. He couldn’t be bad for Chenle.

While the asking-out part isn’t all that exciting – indeed, it was about as lackluster as stating that he liked Chenle a lot and wanted to take him out on a date – Renjun blows all of Donghyuck’s expectations out of the water when he buys out a whole planetarium for their first date. When everyone stares at him after that confession, he shrugs and says it wasn’t a big deal, and that it was only half the amount of money their annual tuition was. Which shocked Donghyuck even more, because it wasn’t like going to their school was in any way cheap.

He tells Chenle as much, although in a significantly more conspiratorial way. “Keep him around, he’s loaded,” he whispers after Chenle hugs Renjun and says goodbye to go to class, and Chenle retaliates with a shove to his shoulder and narrowed eyes.

“Don’t even, Hyuck,” he hisses. “Renjun’s an amazing person, I’m not with him for his money.” Donghyuck responds with a roll of his eyes and falls quiet as they make their way to chemistry. He notices a gaggle of girls making their way down the hall toward them, and wonders idly if Xuxi cares even slightly about the inconvenience he causes everyone else in the school. Not that most people care, of course, especially since he’s the basketball captain and one of the most well-liked boys at school, second only to Jeno and Mark. Donghyuck happens to think there isn’t anything all that special about him, but he keeps that particular opinion to himself. Chenle nudges him in the ribs and nods towards where they can see Xuxi’s head above the other girls, golden brown hair tossed around from being run through by his fingers multiple times.

“Hey, look, your dream man’s back at it again, breaking hearts,” he teases, and Donghyuck sighs.

“I don’t know why you’re still hung up on trying to get me to have a crush, Lele,” he says, turning right down a different hall to avoid Xuxi’s entourage. “I’m not missing out on anything. What good does having a pining eye on someone do for me?” He doesn’t wait for Chenle to answer, turning right again to head up a set of stairs to the third floor. “Nothing. All I get is emotional vulnerability and anxiety.”

Chenle snorts. “It isn’t nearly that bad, Hyuck. I definitely didn’t suffer emotional vulnerability.”

“That’s because you always wear your heart on your sleeve! Just because my actions give me away half the time doesn’t mean I want to verbalize my feelings.” They walk down the hall and enter 307, dropping their bags off at their seats before gathering around Jaemin’s desk. “Face it, Chenle, I’m not gonna get a crush this year either. It’s not worth it.”

Two months later, Donghyuck thinks that maybe it is worth it. If only to get Chenle to stop nagging at him. There’s only so much he can take before his indifferent wall crumbles, and he’s starting to get annoyed by how Chenle is acting like having a crush is an initiation of becoming a real teen.

He runs through his options during calculus instead of paying attention to derivatives, which he wasn’t too worried about since they were all so easy. He knows Felix has a thing for Changbin, Xuxi is Renjun’s cousin, and Jeongin wasn’t interested in him at all (Donghyuck suspected he only stuck around for Jisung). Han Jisung wasn’t an option either, and he didn’t think Changmin even did anything other than dance. Which meant he has Hyunjin, Eric, Seungmin, Sunwoo, and, of all people, Mark on the table. Hyunjin and Seungmin are dancing around each other, at least from what Felix confided him with, and Sunwoo doesn’t seem like someone who’d match him. He remembers his brusque demeanor (look at him, using big words, he says to himself wittily) and thinks that his own sarcasm wouldn’t go over with him well. And he knows for a fact that Kevin would gut him alive if he so much as looked in Eric’s direction.

That leaves him with Mark. And as much as he hates it, liking Mark is an easy, convenient thing to do. He can count on a single hand how many times they’ve talked to each other, and even then, saying they’ve talked is a stretch. It was more along the lines of being in each other’s general vicinity. It’ll be easy to fake having a crush, he decides, but to really sell the idea, he’ll have to be cunning. Chenle, despite his airy personality, isn’t easily fooled.

Mark’s the soccer captain, which means that he’s one of the more popular people in the school. Donghyuck doesn’t actually see him often, but when he does, he’s usually with Xuxi and Chan, laughing hard enough that his eyes turn into crescents and he doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t actually know much else about him, but a quick Instagram search tells him that Mark’s the student council treasurer and plays guitar too. To be truthful, he wasn’t expecting all of that. Mark never seemed like anything other than a jock to him.

Maybe Jeno was right when he said he was too judgy.

Chenle, predictively, asks again about his status on having a crush, this time in the middle of lunch with Jeno, Jisung, and Jaemin with them.

“So, Hyuck, you’re still positive you don’t have a crush on anyone, anyone at all?” He places special emphasis on the “anyone,” and Donghyuck refrains from rolling his eyes at him. He doesn’t say anything and takes another bite of pasta, letting Chenle wait for a response. When he finishes his mouthful and goes the extra mile to wipe his mouth with a napkin, he decides he’s made Chenle wait long enough for an answer.

“Well.” That seems to get Jeno and Jisung’s attention, because for once Donghyuck wasn’t flat out denying having a crush. “Maybe.” Chenle’s shriek makes him wince and shrink away, trying his hardest to save his ears while he could. “Chenle, tone it down. I’m gonna go deaf.”

“Shut up, Hyuck, you actually have a crush? I was just messing around with you!” Chenle leans across the table to get closer to him, and Donghyuck leans back from the proximity. “Tell us, who is it?”

Donghyuck snorts unintentionally. “As if I would tell you. You’re already making such a big deal about me even having a crush, I don’t trust you to know who it is.” Chenle pouts and slumps back in his chair, and Jisung, ever his faithful best friend of eleven years, takes over.

“Hyuck, you can’t actually be thinking we’ll let you get out of this so easily.” Jisung raises an eyebrow as he says this, and Donghyuck shrugs nonchalantly.

“Watch me. What can you do, you’re practically a child.”

“Just because you call yourself the mom of our group doesn’t mean I respect your supposed authority.” Jisung moves on before Donghyuck’s mock shock and horror can be further dramatized with words. “So either tell us or we’ll make sure you wish you did when you had the chance.”

Donghyuck hums, suddenly unconcerned. “Bring it, fetus.”

“This is verbal child abuse, I want a social worker.”

In hindsight, Donghyuck should’ve realized that Jisung wasn’t lying. Much like Chenle, Jisung refuses to leave him alone. Relentless text messages, calls, and even cornering him in between classes. Donghyuck’s missed five calls from him just from the start of second period, and he might be stubborn, but he’s also easily annoyed. The annoyance easily wins out, and when Jisung stops him for the fifth time that day, he finally gives in.

Jisung is only slightly surprised when Donghyuck tugs him behind a staircase to give them a minimal amount of privacy. Donghyuck has never wanted to punch the smug smile off of his face as much as he does now.

“Fine,” he growls, “I’ll tell you who it is.” Before Jisung can get too excited, Donghyuck amends his sentence. “After school.” Jisung deflates noticeably, but Donghyuck can’t bring himself to particularly care about Jisung’s disappointment. Jisung huffs and then shrugs.

“I’ll tell Chenle, so don’t even think about backing out,” he warns, and Donghyuck lightly shoves him back into the crowd, showing more restraint than he thinks Jisung really deserves. He reevaluates his decision in friends on the way to calculus, and wonders if Jeno is actually the only sane person. At least he doesn’t pester him with constant questions.

Chenle, predictably, freaks the fuck out, and even Jeno looks surprised when he reveals that his “crush” is Mark. Donghyuck doesn’t understand why they’re making such a big deal about it, and he shrugs it off as the shock that he’d supposedly started to like someone. He just has to keep up this act for a few weeks, and then he could pretend it had died out.

It only sounds that simple in his head.

He enters school the next day with the biggest worry being that he had no idea what titration even meant. His chemistry exam was first period, which meant he didn’t notice that his classmates even existed until second period. When he does remember that he does, in fact, live in a society with other people, the first observation he makes is that people are staring at him. That’s weird to begin with because he’s always gone under the radar, unnoticed as a mere choir kid, and the sudden attention makes feel itchy. Now he knows what people mean when their skin itches when they think someone’s watching him.

Another red flag is that Chenle is suspiciously avoiding him, which he knew was clearly intentional because the moment they made eye contact in English, Chenle turned around to talk to Felix. Donghyuck narrows his eyes at his friend and slowly turns to Jeno.

“What’s up with Lele?” he asks, and Jeno’s expression pinches guiltily. It only serves to make Donghyuck even more mistrustful. “I know you know something.”

“Sorry, Hyuck, I can’t tell you.” Jeno shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “He would end up killing me before you kill him yourself.”

“Jeno. What the fuck did he do?” Donghyuck’s voice is brittle and verging on anger because if Jeno thinks that whatever Chenle did was bad enough that he would want to kill him, it had to be bad. Jeno’s saved from the worst of his wrath when the bell rings and they’re told to sit down for class, but Donghyuck spends the whole class period glaring at Chenle at every given opportunity. And when both Jeno and Chenle sprint out of the classroom at the bell, he makes it his goal to figure it out by the end of the day.

His job is made infinitely easier when Jeongin comes up to him during gym, a class that they randomly share without any of their other mutual friends.

“Hey, did you know you’re the daily gossip?” Donghyuck looks away from the hoop to look at Jeongin, unconcerned of the ball he just shot. The ball doesn’t make a sound as it slips through the net and thumps on the ground.

“Well, I didn’t think people were talking about me that much,” he responds drily, going to pick up the ball from where it had begun to roll away. Jeongin follows him and laughs, the one he uses when he finds something ironically funny. It matches Jisung’s to a T, and Donghyuck shudders while thinking of their combined sarcastic prowess.

“Then you’ll find the reason hilarious,” he says with a raised eyebrow, “considering you’re known for turning down every single date you’re asked on and claiming you’re not interested in it.” His blood runs cold and he freezes in place, crouched down to pick up the basketball. He breathes out to center himself and straightens, turning to Jeongin with a blank expression.

“And what exactly is this rumor?” he asks, in what he hopes is an uninterested tone even though his eyes are hard as steel.

“People think the reason you’ve turned everyone down is because you have a crush on Mark.” He applauds Jeno for attempting to keep Chenle safe, but he’s right: Chenle is a dead man walking.

But for Jeongin, he puts on a smile and laughs at the supposed absurdity of the rumor while he plans Chenle’s inevitable demise. The moment Jeongin turns his back to go back to his group of friends, the only one Donghyuck knew being Eric, his face falls and becomes a scowl.

Chenle, for his part, is remorseful when Donghyuck confronts him. After Donghyuck had told them yesterday, he’d told Renjun, and Renjun must’ve told Jaemin because he’d messaged him a few hours later asking if it was true. He’d confirmed it, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but Donghyuck forced himself to see this from Chenle’s point of view. If his friend had finally confessed to having a crush after almost five years without so much as a second glance in anyone’s direction (except for his short-lived infatuation with Sicheng, Chenle’s brother, which was something he’ll take to his grave), he’d probably be this excited too.

He sucks it up and pushes through the mortification for the rest of the school day, but it weighs in his mind. If his “crush” was public knowledge then it would only be that much harder to eventually convince them that he no longer had one. What would happen when Mark found out? Someone was bound to tell him, so Donghyuck didn’t bother trying to delude himself into thinking that there was a chance this would all gloss over without him ever finding out. What could he do? Laugh awkwardly while telling him it was a lie and hope he hadn’t weirded Mark out? He never had anything to do with this – had only been an unfortunate part of Donghyuck’s plan to finally get some peace in his life. Hell, Donghyuck didn’t even know his last name.

Actually, no, he knows his Instagram user, and it has “Lee” in it. So he knows the basics, but beyond that, it’s a mystery. Their only connection is that Chenle is dating Renjun and Renjun’s cousin is Xuxi. He should’ve chosen someone from a different school, Donghyuck thinks mournfully, walking up his porch stairs and opening the door with an audible sigh. When he smells lemon tarts from the kitchen and hears a guitar being played from the living room, though, he forgets about his abysmal situation for a moment. He rounds the corner of the hall and enters the living room, letting a smile overtake his face when he sees Taeil sitting on the sofa, cross-legged with his acoustic guitar. His eyes are closed, so he doesn’t immediately see Donghyuck, but when Taeyong pokes his head out of the kitchen to welcome him back, he looks up and returns Donghyuck smile.

“Hyuckie,” he greets softly, propping the guitar against the sofa and standing up to give him a hug. Donghyuck takes the offer eagerly, practically jumping in place as he wraps his arms around Taeil and jostling them both. Taeil laughs and Donghyuck wonders how he could’ve gone so long without hearing Taeil’s soothing voice. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

“Actually, the only thing he would ask me in the past two weeks was ‘When are you bringing Taeil back?’,” Taeyong interjects on Donghyuck’s behalf, “and I’m gonna be honest, I felt a little offended.”

“Sorry Taeyong, Taeil’s just a better version of you,” Donghyuck shouts back, squeezing Taeil one last time before stepping back. “Are you on break? I thought you were busy with recording.”

“I finished recording two weeks ago,” Taeil says brightly, sitting back down. Donghyuck sits down next to him and watches Taeyong clean up through the kitchen entrance. “I would’ve come earlier, but they wanted my final opinion about the album layout, tracklist, and the song production. I have a week before the album release, so I decided to come back until then.”

“You have an R&B title track this time, right?” Taeyong asks, bringing out a serving tray with a few lemon tarts artfully piled on it. He holds it out for them to take and then sets it on the coffee table, taking one for himself and settling onto the seat on the other side of Taeil.

“Mhm,” Taeil confirms around a mouthful of tart. He swallows and continues. “I wanted a change from ballads and the experience of singing for other genres. This album actually has a mixture of R&B and indie-inspired tracks. But enough about me. Hyuckie, how’ve you been?”

In the span of half a second, Donghyuck decides that telling Taeil, and by extension Taeyong, his current dilemma is an impossibility. Taeyong would blow it out of proportion, and Taeil has his upcoming album to worry about. So he lies through his teeth, something he’s getting better and better at doing, and says it’s the same old situation.

“Still struggling with chemistry then?” Taeyong snarks, narrowing his eyes playfully, and Donghyuck squawks indignantly. Just like that, the three of them fall into a familiar routine and Donghyuck forgets about his pressing crush issue to enjoy his time with Taeil, even if Taeyong does steal him most of the time.

He doesn’t get through three hours of that evening without thinking about it. In his defense, he really wouldn’t have thought of it again if Chenle hadn’t texted him on Renjun’s behalf. And from reading the text, Renjun was asking on Xuxi’s behalf. Donghyuck wished sometimes that he was more oblivious so that he wouldn’t make these intuitive connections so easily, but if Xuxi is asking if he’s actually got a crush on Mark, then he’s going to tell Mark that it’s true. Which means Mark already knows about the rumor and Donghyuck’s in a corner. Chenle believes he has a crush and so does Renjun. Renjun had only asked Chenle to text him asking if it was okay to confirm it, but it was nothing other than out of courtesy. Donghyuck didn’t see the option of saying no. So, reluctantly, he replies to Chenle and says that it’s fine.

Taeyong notices the drop in his mood. He’s perceptive like that, in a way Donghyuck doesn’t know if he appreciates or hates. On the one hand, it means he never has to explicitly say something’s wrong, but on the other, Taeyong asks about it and he has to talk about it anyway. Either way, he loses. So when Taeyong brings it up while they’re eating the buchu-japchae he’d made in honor of Taeil’s stay, Donghyuck rushes to think of the vaguest possible explanation to give him.

“Uh, there were some weird rumors going around school today,” he says a little hesitantly. Was that vague enough? Should he explain more?

“Rumors?” Taeyong asks with a raised eyebrow, stealing a piece of chicken from Taeil’s plate. He retaliates with a light slap to Taeyong’s thigh and steals one of Taeyong’s pieces, looking up at Donghyuck afterward.

“Why would they be spreading rumors about you?” Taeil sounds genuinely curious, and Donghyuck doesn’t know how to tell him it’s because he’s got a reputation – somewhat – of being a heartbreaker. Taeil’s only ever known him as Taeyong’s cute younger brother who shares his passion for singing, and Donghyuck doesn’t really want to change it now.

“I don’t want to date anyone,” he explains, which sounds almost like the truth, “so whenever people ask me out, I turn them down because I don’t want to risk leading them on. The rumor is that I’m actually turning people down because I already have a crush on someone.”

Taeil nods sagely as if he somehow understands Donghyuck’s strange inability to date. “I get it,” is all he offers before going back to eating. Taeyong gives him a look, one that says that they’re not done, and goes back to pestering Taeil. He can’t help but roll his eyes fondly at the two as they fight over who has the most chicken on their plate.

Chenle intercepts him while he walks to school the next day, and Donghyuck already knows that the disaster from last night has only gotten worse.

“Hey, so listen,” he begins nervously, “Xuxi told Renjun to tell me to tell you that Mark wanted to talk to you. I think he said outside the Green?” He pulls out his phone to check while Donghyuck takes a moment to center his emotions and avoid losing control. “Yeah, he asked you to meet him outside the Green at 7:55, twenty minutes before class starts.”

Donghyuck nods with his eyes closed, breathing slowly as if he was meditating. “Yeah, okay, this is fine,” he mumbles, just loud enough for Chenle to hear. He opens his eyes to see Chenle grimace at his tone.

“I’m sorry I got you caught up in all of this, Hyuck, I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand.” He knows this already, and he knows Chenle never means any real harm despite all of his teasing, but he’s so tired of this that he doesn’t even care about the outcome of the situation at this point.

“I’ll deal,” is all he says in response. “I’ll tell him it’s just a silly rumor and apologize if I made him uncomfortable, and that’ll be the end of it and everyone can go on their merry way.” The last part had a little more sarcasm than he meant to add, but he really did want to be done with the whole rumor as soon as possible. If that meant confronting Mark about it, then he would, embarrassment be damned.

The Green is a small courtyard garden in the back of the school, mostly hidden from prying eyes and the meeting place for lovers and junkies alike. He and Mark and neither of those things, so Donghyuck can’t help but feel wary about what people will say about them if they catch them there together. The only outcome is that it’ll further fuel the rumors, and thinking about it already gives him a headache. When he arrives, it’s 7:45, a full ten minutes before Mark would supposedly meet him. He sits down on one of the benches and waits, bouncing his leg up and down and biting his lip.

The flowers are well-tended to and some are blooming, he notes absently. He only recognizes the roses and calla lilies, but the pink and orange of the other unknown flowers are equally beautiful. He wonders how they’re in bloom, so close to winter, but he’s glad that the garden has a little bit of color to it. It would be awful to have to explain the situation to Mark in a dull brown environment, as dead as his own patience.

Donghyuck didn’t realize he’d zoned out until he hears a throat clear, and immediately after jolting from surprise and whipping his head around to see who’s with him, he stiffens. Mark Lee, in all of his awkward glory, is less than five feet away from him.

“Hey,” he starts, tersely, but not from annoyance. His dyed brown hair, a dark shade that does well to fade into his roots, shifts in front of his eyes, and he pauses momentarily to push it out of the way. “Thank you for coming.” He’s unusually polite, Donghyuck notes – unusually, because most boys wouldn’t give a second thought to the trouble someone might have gone through to meet up with them on such short notice.

“Yeah,” he says, his response stilted. Even though he has a pretty good idea what this conversation is about, he wants to hear it from Mark himself, and so he asks. “What did you want me to come here for?” He’s organizing his explanation in his head, the apology ready on the tip of his tongue, ready to feel the embarrassment rush through him, when he hears him.

“I like you.” But he doesn’t fully process the words until the apology is halfway out, and his, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” gets cut off at the “didn’t.” He blinks, tilts his head, gapes his mouth like a goddamn fish, and doesn’t manage to say anything until he sees Mark’s uncertain expression start to despair.

“I. Uh.” Donghyuck looks at the ground, still trying to come up with a response. “I’m sorry you took me by surprise. I–I didn’t expect you to say that.” He doesn’t see Mark’s wince, but he hears his hurt tone.

“No, um. It’s okay. I just thought that if you really did like me, it was worth a shot.” He glances up again to see Mark rubbing the back of his neck and looking everywhere Donghyuck wasn’t.

“Wait so. You really like me?” The hesitant nod he gets sends him into a full-fledged internal panic, because this was not going according to plan. Mark wasn’t supposed to have a real crush on him. They hadn’t even properly met before!

But his mind sticks to the fact that he can’t crush Mark’s feelings by saying it was all a joke. Even before he really thinks about it, he says, “How does Thursday at 5 sound?”

“What?”

“For a date. Are you free then?” The smile on Mark’s face lights him up, and it almost makes the sinking in his stomach worth it. Almost.

For Chenle’s part, he doesn’t make a big deal of the situation when Donghyuck finds his way to chemistry and tries to put on a satisfied facade. He knows he has to keep up the impression that this is exactly what he wants, and rumors spread fast. It won’t be long until everyone knows that he and Mark are kind of – potentially – a thing.

He tries not to think about Thursday, but it’s hard not to. Technically, he asked Mark out on a date, so he should be planning it. Most of the free time he has, instead of being dedicated to getting ahead in classes, is given to trying to piece together an acceptable date idea. Jeno is essentially no help when Donghyuck calls him.

“Jeno, do you have any date ideas for me?”

“Wha–why do you need date ideas?”

“I thought you already knew? Mark and I have a date.”

“I didn’t know this! Congratulations Hyuck, you’re finally a taken man!”

“Shut up, Jeno, it’s only the first date. Who knows, maybe his personality is garbage.”

“Hm, the entire school says otherwise. But I think a movie date is nice.”

“Thanks I guess.”

But movie dates are boring and overrated, so he calls Jisung instead.

“Jisung, do you have any idea where I could take Mark on a date?”

“Wait, what? You actually asked him out?”

“Oh my god, please save the surprise for later, I need help now!”

“Someone’s feisty. I bet you’re worried Mark won’t like your date.”

“This was a mistake.”

“Love you too, Hyuck.”

He debates whether he should call Chenle or Jaemin, but his personal vendetta against Chenle for putting him in this situation outways the cons of Jaemin’s teasing, so he reluctantly pulls up his contact and hits dial.

“Hello, it’s Jaemin.”

“Hey Jaemin, sorry this is so out-of-the-blue, but do you have any date ideas for me to use?” He almost sees the way Jaemin perks up when Donghyuck basically says he has a date.

“Oh? Is our Donghyuckie planning a date?”

“Jaemin, please.”

“Alright, alright, but you’re gonna have to tell me everything about how it went, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Donghyuck is already promising himself not to tell him anything. Best to not give them hope.

He doesn’t care about this date, not really, but he still feels nervous. As stupid as it sounds, even to himself, he wants to make a good first impression. He doesn’t want to ruin this for Mark either because he knows he’s been genuine about his feelings, which means he has to suck it up and put on a hell of a show.

Mark shows up at the park exactly on time, half past one, and Donghyuck hopes that the cherry pie he managed to bake last minute will taste as good as he knows it looks. It was Taeil’s idea to bake it, and with Taeyong’s extensive help, they’d rushed to make it. The picnic is more about not disappointing Mark right off the bat than it is a date.

“Hey Donghyuck,” Mark greets, sending him a soft smile. “The yellow sweater looks great on you.”

Donghyuck blinks, a little surprised despite the fact that he knew Mark was trying to make conversation and ease the awkwardness. “Oh, thank you. Your jacket looks good on you,” he responds lamely, but Mark takes the compliment and thanks him. He shifts and remembers the purpose of the date, and without thinking too hard about it, he grabs Mark’s hand and leads him to the picnic blanket.

“I thought that we might, you know, get to know each other a little better. And since, uh, coffee dates are kinda overrated and movie dates are disasters, I thought that this would be best.” He tries not to rush through his explanation, but he can’t help but occasionally pause to gather his thoughts. When he finishes, he waits quietly for Mark’s response, refusing to look him in the eyes out of odd embarrassment. He doesn’t know why he’s so shy, but the chuckle that he he hears causes him to bristle.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you,” Mark says fondly as Donghyuck glares half-heartedly at him. “It’s just that you looked so cute trying to explain yourself.”

Donghyuck should’ve recognized the skip of his heart as a sign.

He didn’t.

It continues like that for five months before he thinks he might be taking it too far. One date had turned into two, three, ten, and he kept telling himself it was because he didn’t want to crush Mark’s hopes. He tells himself it was because he didn’t want to ruin Mark’s happiness. He convinces himself it’s all for Mark even as the warmth from his compliments, smile, and voice filled his heart. But the sinking feeling in his chest stays even throughout the weightless feeling Mark’s presence gives him, and the guilt is beginning to eat him alive.

He caves one day.

“Jeno,” he asks, biting his lower lip and automatically giving away his casual facade. Jeno looks over, although it takes a few seconds for him to fully focus on Donghyuck and recognize that he’s being spoken to. Donghyuck attributes it to the fact that Jaemin had walked out of the locker room only minutes before to join his soccer practice and the fact that Jeno’s lips are swollen – not too noticeably, but Donghyuck hasn’t known him for twelve years now to miss the difference. But Jeno’s eyes catch his nervous movement quickly, all too familiar with the habit, and his eyebrows immediately pinch together in concern.

“Hyuck? What happened?”

He’s quick to wave off the general concern. “Nothing happened, really. I just– I need some advice I guess?” he says, sounding so unsure about his own situation that he doesn’t know how Jeno’s going to make heads or tails of what he’s about to tell him. It hits him then that he’s about to spill all of his emotional turmoil over his fake crush for the first time, and suddenly the empty locker room feels too spacious. Words could easily get lost and overheard.

Jeno, if anything, only frowns harder. “Is this about Mark?”

“I–I guess?” He’s only fooling himself, it seems, since Jeno’s expression relaxes at the familiar topic of dating and at the same time tightens at the prospect of providing relationship advice. “It’s not really that simple, though,” he mumbles as an afterthought, although Jeno hears it just fine. He was right – the room carries voices too well.

“Hyuck, you’re gonna have to start being more specific, because I can’t tell you anything if I have nothing to work with.” He takes a deep breath and debates how in-depth he wants to go into his situation, but his mouth works ahead of his mind and betrays him by saying, “I faked my crush on Mark.”

Jeno pauses, and for a moment Donghyuck imagines he’ll yell at him and shake him by the shoulders and ask what the hell he was thinking getting himself in a relationship with someone he was faking a crush on. It’s what he would’ve done. Instead, Jeno closes his eyes, breathes out a deeply suffering sigh, and looks at Donghyuck calmly.

“Why are you saying this now?” Donghyuck forgets sometimes how serious Jeno can be when the time calls for it, and the time is definitely calling for Donghyuck to get some sense knocked into him.

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to be honest with someone.” Jeno’s lips lift wryly and Donghyuck looks down at his feet. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jeno sits down on the bench to tie his shoes. “Well, what do you want to be doing? If you don’t want to date Mark, end it.”

“That’s the problem,” Donghyuck groans out of frustration, slumping against the lockers. “I don’t want to. I actually started liking him somewhere along the way and now I’m a mess.”

“How?”

“I feel guilty,” he sighs, “for how it started. I did it because I thought it would be an asshole move to tell him to his face right after he’d gotten the courage to confess to me that I’d faked it all, so I went along with the first few dates. And then he showed me pictures of him as a child and took me to meet his brother and showed me his favorite movies and–” he breaks off abruptly. “I fell in love. But I don’t think I deserve it.” Jeno stares at him a little longer before taking a glance at the clock.

“You know what I’m gonna say.” Donghyuck nods glumly. Even though he’d come for advice, it wasn’t quite that he needed something new. He needed someone to say it, to make him realize that it was his only option.

“I have to come clean, don’t I.” He phrases it like a question, but they both know he isn’t asking. Jeno stands up, pats him on the shoulder once, and leaves to go to his basketball practice with a final whisper of “good luck” carrying to him through the empty air.

He finds himself questioning his decision. Why bother telling Mark everything about his stupid plot to escape Chenle’s nagging when he actually liked him now? Why ruin something he was starting to enjoy? But morals make their appearance once again, and Donghyuck feels all the guilt come rushing back into his lungs and settle, each breath feels like sand rubbing his throat.

He needs to tell him.

His phone beeps loudly, bounces off the cement walls and grinds on his ears.

A message from Mark. _“We need to talk.”_

_“where?”_

_“S307. I have practice at 3:30.”_ In a half-hearted attempt to ignore his anxiety, he wonders why Jaemin had left so early.

When he arrives, Mark’s leaning against the whiteboard at the front of the room, and Donghyuck takes one look at his expressionless face and feels the guilt solidify in his lungs.

“So,” Donghyuck says, trying to break the silence that presses on them. “What did you want to say?”

“Was it fun for you?” Mark asks cryptically. Donghyuck’s eyes narrow in confusion. “To pretend you liked me? To lead me on?” The guilt turns to ice and pokes sharply at his lungs. He tries to think of where Mark could’ve heard this from and then remembers the locker room. Of course he was in there. He had soccer practice.

“It’s not what it sounds like,” Donghyuck tries to say breathlessly. Mark’s jaw tenses.

“Well, what is it like, Donghyuck.” Mark doesn’t spit his name out like a curse, but Donghyuck feels that it’s one anyway. He winces and takes a small step back, like he’s lost a battle by regressing to full names.

“Look I,” he falters and swallows nervously. “I’m not gonna deny that in the beginning, it was a lie. I only said it because you were convenient to have a crush on. You’re the soccer captain, student council treasurer, the fucking golden boy, and I’m the furthest person from your status. The plan was to fake a crush on you, someone I’d met a total of twice and never talked to even once, to get my friends off my back about my single status, and then.” He pauses his hasty, rushed explanation. “The whole school found out. The whole school found out, which meant you found out, and then you asked me out and I realized I was in too deep.

“I thought I could fake a relationship for a while before I would inevitably have to break up with you because I couldn’t turn you down, but it just became harder and harder as we got closer. You were so genuine and honest and I felt guilty I was stringing you along, I swear I did.” He hasn’t looked at Mark even once during this part, not after he saw the abject coldness on his face. “And I think somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking about when I should end it and started wishing it wouldn't end.”

He hates how tiny and vulnerable his voice is, but this pain of not having Mark beside him anymore is an ache that pushes deeper every time he moves. “I think I really did fall in love with you, Mark. And that’s a dumb fucking excuse for everything I've done, but. That’s all I can tell you.” The words hang in the air, thick and suffocating, and Donghyuck doesn’t feel any better now that he’s let them out. It still feels like they’re weighing on him, forcing him to become smaller and smaller. Mark hasn’t said anything.

It’s only when the classroom door shuts without a word that Donghyuck lets himself cry.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, arms wrapped around his knees and pulled up to his chest while the tears come and come and don’t stop, but his eyes hurt and his throat feels clogged. The strength to stand up isn’t there, hasn’t been there since Mark left, so Donghyuck calls one of the only people he trusts to see him like this.

“Taeyong?”

“Hyuck? What’s wrong? You sound stuffy, are you okay?”

“I just spent the last ten minutes crying, so I’m not doing so hot. Can you pick me up?”

“Give me a few minutes.”

Donghyuck almost doesn’t want to get up. He wants to lie down in this empty classroom and waste away; that sounds preferable to the nauseous feeling churning in his gut. He’s over the crying, for now, he thinks numbly, but the emotional effect of the – breakup? could he call it that when he’d lied the whole time? – hasn’t changed with the release of his emotions. He just feels drained.

That's how Taeyong finds him, twenty minutes after one of the worst experiences of his life, and it almost hurts more when he puts on an understanding, pitying face when he comes through the door. He doesn't say anything as he helps Donghyuck stand up and leads him out the classroom, and Donghyuck lets himself fall into the numbness of shattered dreams.

Waking up the next day is a struggle in its own right, more than usual. His eyes feel crusty and his throat aches with an indescribable sharpness, like a glass shard is endlessly digging into it in a metaphorical way. He’s sluggish while getting out of bed, zombie-like when he showers and puts his clothes on. Even his appetite has vanished, and breakfast is an affair of pushing his food around and taking two measly bites before he pushes it away and returns to staring into empty space.

“Hyuckie?” Taeyong’s voice doesn’t do a much to shake him from his thoughts, but it forces him to look over and pull some semblance of normality onto his face. “Do you want to talk about it yet?”

His own voice sounds hollow and scratchy when he says, “Not really,” a complete turn-around from how thick his throat had felt. He blinks away the tears threatening his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I can go to school, hyung.” Taeyong looks unnerved, although Donghyuck attributes it to the fact that he never uses honorifics when talking to him.

“If you say so.” Donghyuck forces a tight smile.

He arrives to pitiful looks from his friends. Guilt from Chenle and regret from Jeno, and Jaemin makes a point to stop by and offer him a few words of consolation. But it doesn’t help, not much, because Donghyuck catches sight of Mark every so often throughout the day and is reminded of the fact that Mark wants nothing to do with him. He knows he had this coming the moment he realized his fake crush had grown into something more, but it doesn’t stop the twinge of his heart and sudden need to cry.

“Hey.” Donghyuck blinks up at Renjun blankly before remembering that being heartbroken gives him no reason to not act like a functioning human being.

“Hey, Renjun.”

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” Donghyuck stares at the empty seat next to him and wonders who had sat there before. He only remembers that it was one of Mark’s friends. He shrugs and looks back at his notebook. He doesn’t remember what class he’s in, but his calculus notebook is out, so he assumes past him had a little more spatial awareness.

“Chenle and Xuxi told me bits of the story,” Renjun says bluntly once they’ve sat in silence for only minute. Donghyuck startles back to reality from where he’d been contemplating the validity of his existence and turns wide eyes to Renjun. “But I want to hear it from you.”

For the third time in two days, Donghyuck picks apart his story and analyzes every section of it, trying to determine where he’d fucked up beyond repair. Renjun listens quietly, and Donghyuck’s cracking voice is lost amidst the chatter of the classroom. When he finishes, Donghyuck realizes his eyes had closed at some point, but he isn’t sure he wants to open them. He doesn’t want to see Renjun’s disappointment.

“If you really mean it,” Renjun says, abruptly standing and pushing his chair out harshly, and Donghyuck’s eyes shoot open as if shocked. “If you really mean it,” he repeats, “you’re going to make it up to him. Even if he doesn’t want you back.”

Maybe it’s the desperation Donghyuck feels. Maybe it’s the rawness of the wound. Maybe it’s repentance. Maybe it has nothing to do with those things and has everything to do with closure. Donghyuck spends the next week planning for his apology, and regardless of the outcome, he hopes both of them walk away a little lighter, with a little less pain. He’s tired of feeling empty and numb.

Saturday, he calls Renjun.  
Sunday morning, he arrives at the park.  
9:40, he’s standing there alone.  
9:45, he catches sight of Mark coming down the path.  
9:46, Mark’s frozen mid-step and staring at him with unconcealed betrayal.  
9:46:20, Donghyuck feels the agony of their breakup a week ago.

He’s here for a reason, though. And so with a wavering voice and trepidation, Donghyuck reads his letter.

_Dear Mark,_

_I hope you don’t take this the wrong way. I only wrote this down so that I could straighten my thoughts. Everything has been a jumbled mess the past week. What I’m about to tell you, though, is all real. I’m not going to lie to you here. Obviously, there’s no point._

_I’m not sure how much you believe me, but everything I said was true. Yes, I did fake a crush on you, although in the beginning I thought it would be harmless. Yes, I did, in a sense, string you along. But I really did fall in love with you Mark. I feel in love with the way you jump in your chair a little every time you laugh, and how you unconsciously scrunch your nose when you’re focusing super hard, and how the tips of your ears flush whenever you get teased – when I teased you._

_There’s no reason for you to forgive me for what I did, but I wanted to at least let us part in a middle ground. Even if we never talk again, even if we’ll always be awkward, I don’t want you to be angry at me. At the very least, I don’t want you to hate the sight of me. I know that’s a lot to ask for, but I’d at least like to keep the happiness of the memories. As if I’d taken a picture and sealed the emotions in it._

_I’m sorry.  
Donghyuck_

“Donghyuck.” The way Mark says his name is flat, but when Donghyuck rips his eyes from the paper, he’s only standing a few feet away. His breath catches and he can’t help but think this is the closest they’ve been since the day in the classroom. Mark’s eyes peer at him curiously even as his lips curl into a frown, and Donghyuck resists the urge to flee. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t deserve to say that I miss you, but I do,” Donghyuck whispers. Mark takes another few steps forward and Donghyuck watches him, holding his breath. He reaches for Donghyuck’s hands and forces them to relax, and it’s only then that he notices he’d been crumpling the paper. When Mark doesn’t move his hands, Donghyuck allows himself a single hopeful star.

“Why are you still here?” Donghyuck says when he can’t stand Mark’s stare anymore.

Mark hums and says, “Wondering if it would be considered too forgiving to kiss you.” Donghyuck thanks his skin for hiding the flush on his cheeks and ears.

“I think it would,” he admits, more than slightly rueful. As much as he wanted to kiss Mark – had been for the past three weeks – he didn’t want to push Mark’s forgiveness.

“Then it’s a good thing no one’s here to notice.” It’s nothing more than a bittersweet peck on the lips, but Donghyuck makes a promise to them both.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Okay, Hyuck.” Mark’s smiling softly now, and Donghyuck allows that star to shine brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter!](https://twitter.com/timelessidyll)   
>  [my curiouscat!](https://curiouscat.me/timelessidyll)


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